


Pizza, movies and heists

by OverHillAndUnderTree



Category: Grand Theft Auto V
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, Plot, good friends with franklin, plotty smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-09
Updated: 2015-04-09
Packaged: 2018-03-22 02:27:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3711385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OverHillAndUnderTree/pseuds/OverHillAndUnderTree
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reader insert! Franklin Clinton, a close friend, introduces you to Michael de Santa. You soon find yourself hoping that this man's hospitality turns into something a little more... (wink)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Los Santos is a harsh and unforgiving place to those who are weak.  
You're well aware that, living alone in a shitty apartment in Strawberry, you're the exception to the rule. Not to say that you're weak in a physical sense! No, you're a slight young woman, but you're capable enough to hold your own against someone twice your size and you're more than accustomed to using guns; that's just the way you've been brought up.  
Your father had insisted on making you sharp and strong as you were growing up (until he left of course, leaving you to do shit all but try to steal where possible and hustle drunk men in bars).  
You had tried bar work. My God, you'd tried. But the creepy men and the insufferable up-their-own-ass drug dealers and mob bosses were getting too much for you.   
You're much more accustomed to a less honest living. You thrive off of the thrill of stealing, but you're only able for small jobs for now. There's only so much a girl can do alone!  
"Hey, (Y/N)." you break from your thoughts and look down. It's midday and you're leaning over your apartment balcony. You scan the empty car park for the source of the voice and see a familiar face.  
"Hey Franklin! How's it going?" you smile down at your friend and hold up your hand, gesturing to him that you'll be right down. He's well used to your mannerisms by now, the guy's like your brother (~from another mother homie~).  
"Shit, (Y/N), niggas goin' crazy round here lately!" he exclaims as you reach the bottom of the stairs and high-five him. "Crazier than the normal crazy?" you chuckle. You always feel at ease around Franklin. "I haven't seen you in a week or two Frank, what's been going on?"  
"I got a lot of shit to catch you up on. First thing's first though, I'mma take you somewhere real quick." he gestures towards a black sports car outside the apartment space.  
"Shit me!" you exclaim as Franklin hops into this incredibly fancy car, and you follow suit. You sit in the passenger seat and stare at the dashboard in awe as he begins to drive.  
"Frank... This is bad! Did you and Lemar steal one of Simeon's repos again!?" you shout. You're sick of him getting into trouble with Lemar, the guy is a twat.  
Franklin starts laughing, picking up speed. "Nawh dog! This ride's mine. Completely legit - well, the money ain't clean but you know what I meant"  
Your smile widens and you quiz Franklin about where he's taking you, but he won't spill. After a long enough drive, you pull up outside this insanely beautiful house on Vinewood Hills; a big pool, gorgeous glass structure... You wonder who he's taking you to see.  
"Frank..." you're cautious. Any son of a bitch you've ever met with a big house like this was almost always bad news.  
"Home sweet home!" he says cheerfully, nudging you. "What you think, (Y/N)?"  
You're really, really lost for words now. All you can muster is "...how?".  
Franklin brings you inside the stunning house -that turned out to be HIS- and you sit down on the extravagant sofa. You feel like you might contaminate the place by touching anything, but you relax as Franklin brings you up to date with the story of him meeting a guy called Michael, and all the other nut jobs he put Franklin in touch with.  
You lean back, in awe of everything. "So, why'd you bring me out here?" you ask, genuinely curious. Frank never was one to rub things in anyone's face. You haven't known him for too long, a little under 2 years now, and he was the one who hooked you up with most of your possible robberies/jobs.  
"(Y/N), I want to hook you up with some of these scores. I seen you fight man, and I knows you can shoot a gun almost better than I can! You's good at sneakin', and you one fast bitch if ever I seen one."  
This is Franklin's way of complimenting you, as strange as it sounds. You think about the prospect of it for a second. It all sounds great (except for this meth-head Trevor guy, he sounds like a lunatic... and you're not too confident about the whole FIB thing, either) and you quickly decide to get involved. It's not like you have anything to lose.  
"Aw Frank, I really appreciate that. Sure thing, have you got something planned for this next score or do you need me to scope?"  
"Nope," he grinned, "that guy Lester I told you 'bout, he got us hooked up with a heist. I'll let you in on the details when I know mo', but for now all I know is we're gonna hit another jewelry store. I already told the guys I was thinkin' of hooking you up, but you gotta prove yourself to 'em."  
"Are you sure I'm cut out for such a big-" you begin, but you're cut short.  
"Hey Frank, you home?" a voice calls from the hallway behind you. Franklin stands up immediately. "What's happenin' Mike? You got perfect timing, dog."  
You stand up and turn around to see a middle aged man with dark hair walk into the room; you guess that this is Michael (go figure, since Franklin just called him Mike). "Nothing much, just said I'd come see the new place. You lucky bastard, it's nicer than my fucking house!" the two men laugh with each other as you stand there with your hands by your side, feeling like a bit of a sap.  
"Oh, hi there sweetheart." his attention turns from Franklin to you, and your eyes meet for an uncomfortably long second. "Name's Michael De Santa. I'm guessing you must be (Y/N)?"  
You smile at the well dressed man. "Hey there. Yep, that's me alright!" you take a second to scan him, and you're impressed. He's tall with nice broad shoulders and shocking blue eyes. His hair is combed back neatly and he's wearing a sharp grey suit. You notice how horribly underdressed you are in your Impotent Rage t-shirt and slacks, and you can't help but blush.  
"So, Franklin was just telling me about the score..." you shift a little, there's something making you uncomfortable and you can't put your finger on it. Frank's cell phone rings, breaking your train of thought and causing you to jump a little. You're being interrupted a lot today.  
Frank apologises and steps outside to take the call. It's Lemar, by the sounds of it and you can't help but worry. Lemar always gets Frank into so much shit...  
"So, (Y/N)," Michael takes a seat on the couch where Franklin had been sitting, and you sit back down uncomfortably next to him. "Franklin tells me you've got some skills! He's been talking you up quite a bit, I hope you can live up to the rep." he says, raising an eyebrow. He has a lovely voice, it's rough and deep, and very sarcastic, but lovely all the same.  
You laugh aswell, suddenly much more comfortable again. "Yeah well, I'm just hoping he didn't make me out to be some kind of Lara Croft. I've never done a big job before, I live off the little stuff; convenience stores, unsuspecting drunk guys in bars."  
He stares into your eyes and nods. "Yeah I knew I recognised you from somewhere alright." ....wait, what?  
You stammer horribly, not able to come up with words. Shit! Have you stolen from this guy before? You've done it so many times! You flirt with the guy, make sure he's drunk, pretend you're going out back with him and steal his wallet. Simple. He certainly seems like the type you'd steal from!  
"Fuck, Michael, I- Mr De Santa, did- Did I? Please tell me-" you stutter.  
Michael bursts out laughing and slaps his knee with delight. "No cupcake, you've never hustled me. But I have seen you around the Vinewood bars a bit. You like to hit the high class married men, huh?" he winks.  
"What can I say? I'm a classy broad" you laugh. You've only just met this man and you're exchanging flirty banter. This is great! You've almost forgotten about Franklin, who's outside the room, still chattering away on the phone. By his gestures, it's definitely Lemar.   
"Anyway, how far did Franklin bring you up to speed on this hit?"

You spend the next while discussing the heist with Michael. He explains carefully and properly exactly what he needs you to do, and it's fairly simple. You're basically the muscle that follows behind Michael to cover him when the heat arrives. During the heist, though, you're the one who sneaks through the vents (since you're small enough) and knocks out the security in the back rooms. Franklin came back in amidst this long and detailed explanation, pitching in every once in a while with some questions. The more they talk about it, the more excited you're getting. You have a really, really good feeling about this.


	2. Chapter 2

Two days later and you're all set up and ready to go with this heist. You're waiting in the back of a pest control van for the others to get moving, and you can't help thinking about the day before.  
Michael had taken you to a shooting range so that you could show him your skills, and he was impressed.  
"Well fuck me gently" he'd said, whistling as you blew a hole straight through the center of each target you encountered. "I have a feeling this thing is gonna go down pretty well with you with us!" he'd chuckled and patted your shoulder. "Thanks, M!" you smiled up at him. You were trying to get used to the calling-crew-members-by-initials-only-on-a-heist thing.  
He took you to a little fighting ring downtown too, so he could check out your fighting skills. You floored every guy in the place, and he was even more impressed.  
He'd driven you home afterwards, and was completely shocked upon seeing the state of your place. His fancy car looked strange in the dingy car park and his gorgeous suit looked out of place in your apartment.  
"No no no, this shit won't do." he'd said upon entering. You have to admit, you were a little offended. "What do you mean it won't do? Aren't I good enough?" Michael was a little taken aback by your sudden feisty reply. "Of course! Jesus (Y/N), that's not what I meant. I mean no offense, but you can't stay in this place. Definitely not the night before a fucking heist. Grab some of your stuff, you're staying at my place."  
You were completely, utterly, 100% gobsmacked. "Mr. De Santa, I can't do that! Your wife!" you exclaimed. He waved his hand in the air. "I didn't mean it like that! My wife and kids have fucked off to God knows where so you can sleep in my daughter's room. I'm not having you stay here, not with those skills of yours and certainly not right before a job, you're too valuable. You need some comfort, and a decent meal by the look of things." he gestured towards the half-open fridge with nothing but a half empty beer and some tuna inside.  
"I don't know what to say. I mean, I barely know you and you're being so nice to me!" you blurted. I mean of course, the two of you had talked a lot in the last couple of days but it was mostly about how fast you were able to knock a guy out and how many jobs you'd done in the past.   
"You'll be guarding my life this time tomorrow cupcake, I think I should at least offer you a decent room." he smiled. You smile to yourself in the back of the van thinking about it. This man has such a way with people.  
You think back to when he brought your stuff back to his house and helped you bring it upstairs to his daughter Tracey's room. It was... quirky, to put it mildly.  
"So, whadd'ya want to eat?" he asked, rubbing his hands together before walking out onto the landing of his house. His gorgeous, gorgeous house. He had said that Frank's house was nicer, but you prefered Michael's. It felt much... warmer.  
"I'm reeeeally not fussy" you said, idly flipping through a magazine on the counter of his kitchen. "Great," he said, "I'm ordering pizza. Two large ones with everything they got. That sound good?" You nodded, delighted at the sounds of pizza. You'd been having a slow week and had just barely been scraping enough money together for rent, never mind food.  
"Sounds amazing, I'm starved!"  
The two of you sat on his couch flicking channels for a while, waiting for the pizza. He talked a little about his kids and his wife taking off, only because you'd asked of course, and it sounded pretty rough.  
"The whole thing just doesn't make sense to me." you said. You were being a little forward, but who cares? You doubted he'd take offence.  
"How so?" he raised an eyebrow in question and turned to face you. "Well for starters, you caught her cheating and SHE was angry with YOU? Sounds like she didn't realise how lucky she was..." you muttered the last part, but you know he heard; you could see the smile on his face out of the corner of your eye. He laughed softly, but said nothing and his smile faded.  
"Yeah, well fuck her anyway. I hope she shoves a tennis racket up her ass the wrong way." you said, looking at him eagerly to see if you'd cheered him up. He stared at you for a split second before he burst out laughing. "You're a funny shit, I'll give ya that!"  
Suddenly the title music to Shoulder of Orion II came on, and your neck almost snapped in two. This was your favourite movie! You clapped excitedly and tucked your knees up under your chin. The pizza finally came and the two of you sat down to watch the movie. Neither of you had said anything after talking about Amanda, but you couldn't help yourself when your favourite line in the movie was coming up. You threw the slice of pizza in your hand into the box in anticipation.  
Out of the corner of your eye you saw Michael turn to you and, miraculously, you both blurted "Pluto? I said Mars, ya cocksucker!!" at exactly the same moment. The two of you stared at each other for a second before laughing again. You remember thinking, 'thank Christ! That cleared the air.'  
The two of you spent the rest of the movie quoting and laughing and teasing. You couldn't help yourself looking at him as he watched the TV screen for a while. His blue eyes were staring forward in concentration, his lips turned up every once in a while and you thought it was cute. He had just a little bit of stubble on his chin, and MY GOD. Only now as you're sitting in the back of the van are you realising that this man turns you on! You squeeze your legs together and shut your eyes. 'No (Y/N), it's just a job. He's like your boss... Your hot boss... Who's letting you stay in his house... NO, STOP IT! Focus on the heist!' But you can't focus on the heist, not after THAT moment. The moment when he turned and caught you staring at him. He had an insufferable smug smile on his face and you didn't even realise that you had started leaning forward and could almost feel his breath on your face. You jolted suddenly and said that you were tired and needed some sleep. Why did you say that? You weren't tired! You barely slept at all that night, as comfortable as Tracey's bed was. That moment keeps playing over and over in your mind. What if you'd tipped your head forward juuuust a little more?   
You're brought out of your little reverie by a dirty, balding older man getting in the back of the van with you.  
"Well helloooo beee-autiful!" he hollered when he stepped in, trying to bow. "The name's Trevor Phillips." -he extended a hand, which you shook. He held on a little too long- "And what do I call you, my little buttercup?" he asked. "Ehh.. (F/N)(L/N). Pleased to meet you, Mr. Phillips."  
He sniffs. "Stuck up chicks, MAN OH MAN."

This man gives you the creeps...  
______________________________________________________________________________________________

You're crouched in a corner of the back of the jewelry store waiting for the guard to come back. You've just climbed through an air vent and you've disabled the security cameras from the interface on the computers. All that's left is to wait for one of the security guards to come back and knock him out.  
"M, I'm in position. Waiting for the guard, wait for my word." you whisper into your headset, which is connected to a conference call on your phone.  
"Good work sweetheart," your breath catches in your throat. Sweetheart. "just be careful."  
You're only waiting a few minutes before the guard opens the locked door into the office, whistling. He sits down at the computer and sees the multiple blank screens. "What the f-"  
Quickly and quietly you strike the back of his head, knocking him out cold at the desk. "He's out M, go!"  
"Atta girl" he says. There goes your breathing again. God damn it all, why did you have to think about his eyes back in that van...  
"Alrighty folks, nobody moves and nobody gets hurt!" you hear Trevor's voice outside. That's strange, you thought Trevor was supposed to be waiting outside in a getaway car... You stand up, pull your mask on over your face and sneak out the door, keeping yourself low. You reach the center of the jewelry store in time to see Trevor pull the trigger of his shotgun, killing a man with a phone in his hand on the opposite side of the store.  
"What the fuck, T!" you shout. There are only three more civilians in the store; an unarmed security guard, a cashier and another customer. There's also Michael and one other guy in a mask that you don't know. The two are busting the jewelry cases and taking the loot, seemingly unphased by what just happened.   
"He was about to have half the LSPD on our asses. That's what the fuck." his gun is pointed at the cashier now as she empties the register but you see a fire in his eyes that says he'll point it at you if you're not careful. You don't want to piss this crazy bastard off, but you're still infuriated that he'd kill an innocent civilian when you could've just knocked him out if Trevor had warned you.  
You shake your head and go about taking the rest of the jewelry, sticking close to Michael as is your job. If any heat arrives, you'll make short work of them. The jewelry store is clear, and Trevor remains as the last person in the store as you run out the back alley with Michael and the other masked man, making sure that if these guys call the police, we're long gone.  
You hop in the passenger seat of a small car and Michael gets in the driver's seat. Trevor gets in the back of another car with Franklin driving and that man you haven't met in the back. The five of you split up, having organised to rendez-vous at Michael's house if there was no heat, and hike all the way to Trevor's if any heat arrived. Turns out, you're long gone before the police have any idea anything went on. You and Michael laugh to yourselves in the car, and he lets out a boyish "woohoo!", slapping the steering wheel.  
"Not the cleanest job," he says "but no heat! What are we, secret agents? Man! That was the fastest job I've ever done, you were incredible in there! And hey, I ain't ever seen someone stand up to Trevor that way, except me of course. You've got some balls!" he's ranting as he drives, a delighted smile on his face. You can't stop smiling.  
"Well, I get the feeling he didn't appreciate me being there very much," you chuckle. "But thanks! My first big job... Wow." you begin to pull up to Michael's place, and Trevor and the others are already there.  
"About time, assholes." Trevor says drily as you exit the car. "Did you two princesses have fun?" Michael ignores him and you decide to do the same. Franklin walks up to you and high-fives you. "How you feelin' (Y/N)? That was crazy easy man, don't get too used to that" he chuckles.  
"The casualty was unfortunate," Michael shoots Trevor a look, to which Trevor flips him off, "but we got out clean and without a scratch."  
We give all of our bags of loot to Franklin, who's going to bring it to Lester. Trevor and the other man get into a car and drive off after a brief argument between Michael and Trevor about who's getting the buggest cut. You thank Franklin for the opportunity and tell him you'll see him around if he's back in his aunt's at any stage.  
Michael starts walking back into his house and holds the door open for you. "Thanks for the opportunity Michael, I appreciate it." you say, a little awkwardly. "I know it's a lot to ask, but could I catch a ride home? It's kind of a long walk and I've no money for a taxi."  
Michael smiles and shakes his head. "Don't be an idiot (Y/N), you're not going back to that shitty hood. Now get in the damn house before I gotta drag you."  
"Michael, I- but, I mean..." you gather yourself. "Thanks so much, but I feel like I'm overstaying my welcome. You only invited me over because it was the night before a heist." you say sternly. You don't like being in debt to people, even though you know Michael's not the type of man that would call in a favour for letting you stay in an empty room, but you're still careful. You're always careful.  
"Yeah well I guess that was before I found out you liked old movies, now hurry the fuck up or I'm watching Nelson in Naples without ya."  
You smile and run in the door, breathing a quick and gracious 'thank you' on the way. You run upstairs to Tracey's room to get changed. You slip on a nice blouse and a pair of jeans. Wait, wait, wait. Why are you putting on a nice blouse and a pair of jeans for sitting on the couch watching a movie? Are you trying to look nice for this guy? Jesus... You'd better not get too ahead of yourself. This is business, now stop acting like a fourteen year old on her first date!!

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All aboard the hanky-panky train!

You return downstairs and Michael's nowhere to be seen. You can hear the sound of running water in another room and realise he's in the shower. You shrug and sit down on the sofa, taking in his house properly. You still can't quite put your finger on why, but you love it here, and you're secretly delighted you get to stay. You look to the small table next to the couch and there's a bottle of whiskey with three glasses and an ash tray with cigars stubbed out in it. What a typical man. You smile to yourself. You hadn't noticed that the shower turned off and Michael was standing there the entire time you were staring at his whiskey.  
"Want some?" he chuckles, walking over to the table and grabbing the bottle. He pours himself a glass and you consider. "I really don't want to impose, M..." you say quietly and he makes a 'pfff' sound.  
"A glass for the lady then!" he pours you a generous sup and hands it to you before sitting down on the couch next to you. He didn't turn to face the TV this time, he was sitting sideways, facing you with his arm straddled over the back of the couch.  
"Thanks Michael, you're a real gem." you joke, tipping the top of your glass gently against his. "To a ridiculously successful heist!" he exclaims. You laugh and say the same before taking a sip. You wince a little bit and he laughs. "Too strong for ya?" he gestures.  
"Well I'm used to watered down stuff in shitty bars, so yeah a little." you smile. "It's nice though, a lot nicer than what I'm used to for sure!"  
"I'll bring you back to your place tomorrow," he says smiling, and your heart sinks. Tomorrow? I thought he said you could stay! You were expecting this before you came over, but you're getting a little too comfortable here. "You can pick up the rest of your stuff and bring it over." he finishes, grinning. He knows exactly what he was doing.  
"Got disappointed for a sec there, didn't ya?" he teases, knocking back the remainder of his glass. Your face tells all sometimes and it's shitty. Your eyes flicker to the open collar of his polo shirt for a split second and your heartbeat quickens. You need to work on your wandering eyes!  
"Only disappointed that I wouldn't be able to watch old movies every night." you laugh, saving yourself from utter embarrassment. Phew! You can still feel his eyes on you though, and you look down into your whiskey.  
"So how long have you been in the game?" Michael asks, pouring himself a third whiskey. This guy's a solid drinker.  
"Since I was thirteen. My dad fucked off somewhere and left me to fend for myself. I was living with relatives until I was sixteen but I couldn't deal with them any longer. I ran away and had to find ways to use my...skill set to earn some cash. Lived on the streets for a while, got myself a few hotel rooms with the money I stole. It was only when I turned eighteen that I got that apartment. Been living there six years now."  
"Shit, that's pretty tough." he says. "Since you were thirteen, huh. You never think of getting an office job or anything?" this question makes you blush.  
"Well, I mean, my resumée isn't the most impressive. 'Went to school until I was thirteen, dropped out and became a criminal. Can read, write and do basic maths' doesn't sound too good to me." he pours you yet another drink as the two of you chat away. He tells you about how he had to fake his death, and tells you about his and Trevor's past together. You notice that while the two of you chat, his eyes keep wandering from your eyes to your lips. You don't think he's noticed. In all fairness to him, you haven't even noticed that you've drank enough whiskey to floor you, because you're sitting down and aren't feeling dizzy, just a little light-headed.  
Michael puts his glass down on the table next to him. "That's about enough for me, I think." he chuckles. He checks his watch, it's 2am. "Christ, is that really the time? We haven't even watched the movie yet!" he exclaims. You laugh softly, "Apparently whiskey is some sort of time machine, I didn't notice the time going either."  
He looks at you again with an almost vacant expression, except for the little grin on one side of his mouth. You look into his eyes again, which is a mistake, but the whiskey is making you light headed and confident. "There must be something interesting written on my lips, is there?" you tease, nudging the older man. He smiles and shrugs.  
"Well apparently I'm getting older, that used to be more subtle."  
"Nah, it's subtle," you reassure him. "I'm just observant."  
With that he seems to be unable to hold himself back and leans towards you fervently. "Mr De Santa.." you breathe, right before his lips touch yours. You feel a fever run through your entire body as you part your lips for him, as he kisses you slowly and tenderly. He takes your glass from your hand and places it behind him on the table before returning for another taste of you.  
Your breathing is erratic and your heart is beating fast, and you know that he can tell because you can feel him smile into the kiss. You lead on men in bars all the time, but it's been a very long time since you've actually been with a man. Especially such an attractive one.  
He breaks the kiss and cups your chin in his hand. He stares at you intensely for a second, scanning your face with lust in his eyes. His intentions are perfectly clear.  
He plants a kiss on your cheek and starts to work down your neck, gently kissing and sucking the delicate skin. You feel his teeth on your collarbone and you hiss quietly. Jesus, this man knows his way around a woman alright.  
He places his hands on your hips and pulls you onto his lap, placing your legs either side of his. He runs his hands up and down your thighs, almost as if he's inspecting you. "That's much better" he says softly, tilting his head to kiss you again. You wrap your arms around his neck and he begins unbuttoning your blouse while he kisses you. His movements are very deliberate and slow; you try numerous times to start unbuttoning his shirt or to intensify your kisses, but every time you do, he breaks away.  
"Woah there honey, aren't we getting a little impatient?" he breathes into your ear, finally opening the last button of your blouse and slipping it off over your shoulders. He bites your collarbone again and you gasp. "Michael..."  
"Ah ah, that's Mr De Santa to you," he winks at you. "If you're to have your wicked way with me, baby, we're doing it MY wicked way. You're in MY house now (Y/N)." his hands slide from your waist up your back, where his fingers find the clasp of your bra. You're lost for words, this man is such a tease! But you have to admit, it's a massive turn on. He slips your bra off with ease and flings it behind him somewhere.  
"Mr De Santa, don't I get any say at all?" you ask, putting your hands on his chest, working on his shirt buttons again.  
"Like I said sweetheart, it's my house now." he grabs your hands and places them on the back of his neck, and you decide to leave them there. He has a very serious look on his face now and you don't want to push your luck with him, so you let him have his 'wicked way'. You do, however, start tracing circles on the back of his neck with your fingertips.  
His lips make a delicate trail from your neck to your breasts. He seems to be fairly content holding your waist and sliding his tongue around your nipples. "I could do this all day, gorgeous." he says slyly. You would gladly have him do it all day if you didn't have such an ache inside of you. All of his teasing has made you wet with wanting for him, and his erotic voice isn't helping that. You groan and shift on his lap as his hands slide downward to the button of your jeans. You kneel up slightly and help him remove them before you slide back down onto his lap.  
You're painfully aware that your choice of underwear is, well... completely ridiculous. The only thing covering your body now is a pair of boyshort panties with a picture of Impotent Rage on the front. You blush and hide your face with your hands as he laughs at you uncontrollably.  
"Is it strange that they're so much sexier than lingerie?" he chuckles, taking your wrists away from your face. "You're such a liar" you say as he looks into your eyes again. Those damn eyes.  
"Oh, am I?" he asks playfully, leading your right hand to rest on his crotch to prove his point. He's rock hard! You take this opportunity to try to take off his belt, but he quickly grabs you and lies you down on the sofa on your back. He hovers over you, faces almost touching. "What did I say about doing things my way?" He keeps his face there, supporting himself with his right elbow next to your head, and you can feel his other hand wandering down to your rather embarrassing underwear.  
He gently strokes you outside of your underwear before sliding his hand into them, staring right into your eyes the entire time. He licks his lips and gently slides a finger into your entrance while slowly rubbing your clit with his thumb. You inhale sharply and place a hand on his cheek.  
"Oh, Michael" you breathe as he adds a second finger and picks up his rhythm. You feel as if you're on fire from the inside and your mind goes completely blank. You've forgotten about the fact that he still hasn't taken off your awful underwear. All you can think about is how much you want this man inside you. You don't feel particularly close to orgasm, but that completely changes as he leans in and whispers into your ear, "You just be patient baby, trust me, I'm going to fuck you into next week."  
Your head leans back and you wrap your legs around his waist as you feel yourself climax around his fingers. A moan escapes your lips and you see him staring at you intently with a smug look on his face. "Somebody's got a fetish for my voice" he teases, starting to fiddle with his belt buckle. You lie there and look up at him, completely and utterly intoxicated; but not by the alcohol. You just came, but you're already feeling hot again - hotter than before. He stands up and unzips the front of his trousers, allowing his erection to slide out freely.  
Holy hell, he's hard alright! You smile at him wryly, biting your bottom lip. "Looks like I'm not the only one with a fetish, Michael." oh yes! You're talking back, and it feels good.  
He lowers himself over you and you can't help but show the delight on your face as he finally removes your briefs and positions himself between your legs. You lift your hips for him, and he rubs his length along you, smearing your wetness along the bottom of his girth.  
You are well and truly fed up with his teasing and you buck your hips as he nears your entrance, urging him to hurry up and take you.  
"I won't know what ya' want if you don't ask for it, sugar." he winks at you. Surely he's near his limit with this teasing as well? How on Earth could he stay so composed when he's so rock hard?  
"Mr de Santa, it's pretty clear what I want you to do" you pant as his member rubs against your clit particularly slowly. You bite your lip, and he's still so...smug above you! Surely you're not desparate enough to beg him?  
"Mr de Santa, if you don't fuck me like you promised, I'm going to pin you down and ride you myself." you threaten, leaning your face up to bite his lip. You aren't going to beg him, although you do feel particularly vulnerable; he's leaning over you, still fully clothed aside from having opened his trousers and you're lying there as naked as the day you were born!  
Your little act of defiance spurs something in the man and he suddenly rams himself into your entrance, tearing a gasp from your lips and causing you to cry out loudly. You place your hand over your mouth at this sudden rough entrance, but it hit something in you that sends sparks down your legs.  
"Fuck" you breathe, leaning your head back again. Michael chuckles above you, still buried inside you, and kisses your neck briefly.  
"You don't get to make demands like that in my house without a little rough treatment, hon." he circles his hips, allowing you to get used to his size again before pulling back out almost fully and ramming back into you roughly, palm connecting sharply with your buttock before he grabs one leg and throws it over his shoulder to get a better angle.  
The slap to your rear end sends more sparks through you, and his rough treatment is making you feel dizzy with lust; your vision becomes filled with white spots as he continues to plow into you hard, earning delighted moans from you.  
"That's what I like to hear baby, nice and loud" he grunts, steadying his rhythm. You don't care how ridiculous you look with one leg thrown over his shoulder and the other sprawled out over the edge of the couch, you're enjoying this, being truly spread out for him so he can reach your most sensitive spots, and he knows how to reach them well.  
You shut your eyes, unable to look at him much longer as a sudden wave of heat washes over you and you realise you're close. You don't want this to end and you're focusing as hard as you can on not cumming.  
"Gettin' close?" he asks, suddenly stopping his rhythm. He's buried inside you to the hilt and is making circles inside you again, the area just above his cock massaging your exposed clit with gorgeous friction.  
"Michael stop, I don't want to come so soon" you breathe, tilting your head back until you can only see the ceiling. Excruciatingly slowly, he pulls in and out of you again, making you bite your lip to stifle your moans even slightly.  
"Michael..." you warn, feeling that familiar pressure building again. He places a hand on your cheek, making you look at him.  
"Me too," he says, looking right into your eyes before delivering a particularly sudden and rough thrust again, obviously lavishing your expression.  
"Oh man, the faces you pull are too much" he breathes, continuing his rhythm again.  
"Where do you want it?" he asks, returning to his slow rhythm. You raise an eyebrow and he nods towards where the two of you are joined. Ah, you understand now.  
"On the pill" you pant, which is enough for him. His rhythm picks up again and you award him a particularly loud moan of his name. He rubs your clit eagerly, wanting to feel you tighten around him before he cums himself.  
"Lemme see that beautiful face you make when you cum sugar, I wanna see it again," he says breathlessly as he plows into you even faster and harder, and his voice completely sends you over the edge. Mouth wide open, completely shameless, you cry out Michael's name once more before the waves of your orgasm wash over you. You barely hear Michael's moan as he spills into you, your own name on his lips with it.  
He pulls out of you, sighing, before putting his manhood away and laying down on the couch next to you, arm underneath you and a hand on your still trembling thigh. You're completely breathless, and the two of you giggle like school children that just pulled a prank on their teacher before he kisses you and you cuddle into his shoulder.  
"I'm pretty glad Franklin introduced me to you," he says, before adding, "I'm also glad your place was a shithole".  
The two of you laugh and talk and tease as you clean yourself up and head upstairs, completely exhausted. You're so utterly spent that you almost start heading towards Tracey's bedroom before being thrown into Michael's bed to sleep next to him.  
You could certainly get used to this!


End file.
